Everything Bleeds
by Lindy
Summary: ER characters give their version and views of life in the ER, the struggles, and what happens when love is lost or found
1. Abby's Part: Love is Lost

Everything Bleeds: Abby's Part (Love is Lost)  
By Lindy  
  
Today was bad. When I say bad, I mean horrible. I mean there were lots of little things, there were a few big things, and then there were the regular problems that just added to the incoming misery. Oh, it was grand, let me tell you! Just the night I needed to follow up a hard week - oh, wait, that's right, it's only Wednesday. And I have two more days left and a shift on Saturday to get through before I can even get eight hours of sleep.  
  
I can't say I don't want to do this anymore, that would just follow a pattern of behavior that I've ever heard the word "responsibility." Even if I had a reason, would it even matter? In the end, isn't it just quitting? I guess I'm jumping ahead. Let me explain.  
  
Luka and I broke up after a year's worth of being together. A whole year. Now... I know couples break up all the time, and that relationships, both short and long, fall apart like a house of cards. And I've never dealt with love very well. Richard and I have been divorced for three years now, and he still gets to me. I still lose sleep over wondering where it went wrong. You see, most people like to live in the present (or, at least, claim to). They're happy "going where the road takes them." Well, the road is leading me up shit creek without a paddle.   
  
But Luka was different. Luka was this guy with extreme morals, he was a genuinely nice human being. He was honest, he was clean, he cared, and he trusted me. I always thought I felt the same way toward him. But my life started to pile more and more crap on me, and pretty soon it started to affect me... a lot worse than I had expected, actually. But at least I had Luka to go home to, you know? And Luka always made me feel better, whether I had an argument with Kerry, or an OB attending, or if something happened with Richard or my mother. He was always there.  
  
Then the distance came. And once the distance comes, you can't get back what you had before. Days, weeks, and then a whole month passed before we connected... and then we never did again. It was just like that. The thing was, I saw it coming. We both did. Even now, as I sit here trying to explain it, I can't explain what really went wrong in our love. Perhaps it was just that love had faded and we couldn't seem to get it back. Then Luka wanted to spend more time at the hospital, getting his attending position renewed in full. He never stopped, though. He just kept strong at his job and never came back to me.   
  
And then work... oh, my my my, where do I begin? I mean, should I sit here and pour misery upon you at this hour? This is my problem: someone always wants to know what's wrong. If I go into details, because that's the only way there can be any level of understanding achieved, then I'll either bore them with my monotonous complaining, or sadden myself by hearing it again. Now, if I say nothing's wrong, I usually get something to the effect of "Well, something's wrong. Why won't you tell me?" Or this weird little, "Okay..." To both of which I usually just snap, "Nothing's wrong," very quickly because I can no longer sit here and be rational with sympathy. If I wanted comfort, I would have it by now because I would have sought out one of my friends. But I don't, therefore it's a lose-lose situation.  
  
So I'm back as a med student. Yes, this is one of my problems. Then there's always the issue of paying the bills, paying for medical school, and insisting to Carter that I don't need a loan. He's with this cute little blond, Anna, that came from Boston, or Philadelphia, or some town like that. Apparently she was here before, and she and Carter were sort of an "item." It's some long Italian name, like Del Monico or Del Annicuio or something... She's sweet and all, don't get me wrong. They're just "in love" and... well, I don't mean to sound bitter. But I guess I always thought Carter and I had this subconscious romance going on. As suppose it turns out, we didn't.  
  
And who do I have to talk to now?... No one. Carter's with this Anna chick. Luka, who *actually* used the line "we'll still be close friends" barely comes close to me he feels very uncomfortable about being around someone he knows still loves him (and I do still love him). Kerry? No, how I talk to Kerry about anything? It's impossible. She just gives me the ultimatum, or, God forbid, another responsibility lecture on why I'm here to do my job, not do social activity.   
  
here I am. I have no pride left, but I can't quit in case future endeavors come my way. I can't drastically change my personality level, that would be obvious and partially insulting to myself, and besides that I doubt anyone at that hospital really knows who I am anyway... what's a personality change going to do? I can change my attitude and perspective, but that's an over-time thing that will take months. So I'm left with... pretending. Again. The thing I hate most in the world, and it's the thing I've never been apart from in my entire life. I pretend to love, I pretend to hate, I pretend to cooperate, to understand, to care, to make small talk. I suppose these are my faults.  
  



	2. Carter's Part: Love is Found

Everything Bleeds: Carter's Part (Love is Found)  
By Lindy  
  
I can't explain anything in words. I mean, you don't realize how metaphorical we all live until you've experienced the absolute worst of life and the absolute best of life. In many ways, I've experienced both. Being a doctor gives you an oppurtunity to witness the birth of many new lives into the world. The downside of that is that everyone dies, and being a trauma physician, you see many strange and terrifying ways to die.   
  
And then again, I was almost there myself. I bled on the floor of an exam room for hours beside a beloved colleague of mine, who didn't make it through, only to come out with more emotional and mental scars than I had physical scars. I almost didn't get through it. I injected, I tried this guy on the Southside who makes this "herbal" joint... And I went to rehab for it all.   
  
Well, I got back. I suppose I'm clean. I still ache, and I ached then, but life went on. I mean, I could either kill myself and end it, or keep waking up in the morning and at least participating in life. And there was no way I'd ever commit suicide, after all, I didn't have the guts to do it. I just had the guts to cowardly hide my pain behind medical implements that more or less did nothing except numb my senses.  
  
You know what's even odder about numbing senses? I didn't only numb my circulatory system and my muscles, but I pretty much had numbed all feeling in me whatsoever. Any sentimentality, any emotions; they were nonexistant. The only thing I had was my sense of sight. Because eyes don't lie, you see what you see, and I believe that. Well... I mean, glasses and perscription lenses are one thing... but take Abby and Luka for example. They had it all. I mean, they were two people in love who fit perfectly into each other's arms. They must have known they were meant for each other... well, I suppose until the end. I saw that each and every day. Just the sight of two people so happy made me bitter, and even though I didn't realize it at the time, my bitterness was only getting worse the more I saw love around me.   
  
And it wasn't just love, it was happiness in general. My attitude was simply this: what right did anyone who knew what happened to Lucy or myself have to go and be happy around the facts of it? How could anyone forget what happened? You didn't have to be stabbed in the back to know what pain felt like, or what hurt looked like. But people move on... and somewhere along the past year, so did I. And that wave of bitterness died inside of me, and I'm not sure why.  
  
Then Anna came back. Oh, I don't know what happened. It was like watching a dream float along, and you knew what was going to happen at the end of it. But see, I was afraid it wouldn't. Because when Anna was here before, I was so sure we'd work things out and end up together in the end. But she left before I even had a chance to say goodbye. That didn't matter now, anything she or I had done in the past three miserable years was erased by her coming back. That was when the bitterness finally went away. I think Anna and I only stayed friends a day or two before I asked her out again.  
  
Gosh, was she beautiful. She is the most beautiful woman I've ever met. She's the woman I love, and I want to be with her every moment of the day. Even when I'm in a trauma I think about her, I can't shut her out of my mind. Maybe it's just because we're starting a new love, and new love is exciting... but Anna coming back was so refreshing and needed. Anna made me realize how much I could love someone. I've loved her before, and that love was just sleeping, somewhere in our subconsciousness. I'll always treasure Abby as a friend... but that's it. Anna is the love I've been waiting for, the love I've saved and burned for my entire life. I can only hope that we don't get distanced ever. I refuse to let that happen, because this is my chance.   
  
You can't block out memories. You can't change the past, and you can't hide feelings and pain with medication, tubs of mint chocolate chip ice cream, and solitary looks of bitterness. You can't throw away feelings on account of numbness, because you'll miss love if you spend time being bitter. Love flows more quickly than anger and hate, but everything bleeds. You just have to make sure it's love that's bleeding.  



	3. Luka's Part: Love has Dawned

Everything Bleeds: Love is Dawning  
  
Today I took a train ride. It went from the Bell District, a Polish community outside of Chicago, around the city and to the south, then back again. Through the countryside, away from the city, away from the grimy streets, the druggies, the drunks, and away from County General Hospital.  
  
Away from Abby.  
  
I was sitting in the window seat beside a middle-aged man and his daughter. She kept leaning over me, looking out the window, pointing at things and asking what they were. Her father told her to sit down, to stop bothering me. I only smiled, shrugged my shoulders and said it didn't bother me at all, and that, in fact, I didn't really mind. The daughter, of course, obeyed, but would manage to inch her way back to the same leaning position, pointing and fussing over her curiousity.   
  
At one point, her father got up to go and used the restrooms. The little girl looked up at me with these huge, brown eyes and examined my face with them.   
  
"You talk funny," she said, tugging on a piece of her brown hair.  
  
"It's an accent." I said, smiling at her.  
  
She was, of course, blatantly confused by what I had told her. "What's an accent?" she asked me, her foot kicking me in the knee before she readjusted herself in the seat.  
  
"Well..." I said, rubbing my knee from the tiny impact of patten leather. "It's... it's the way people talk where I come from."  
  
"Where do you come from?"  
  
She certainly had many questions. "Croatia. It's very far away from here."  
  
The little girl looked up at me then, suddenly, her large, brown eyes shining with enthusiasm. "My mommy went far away," she said, an intense grin on her face. "Did she go to Crowyata?"  
  
"Croatia?" I asked, trying to hide my smile. "Did your mother go on a trip?"  
  
"To the hospital." The little girl said, poking my ear with one of her fingers as she spoke. "Daddy said she went far away. He said I couldn't see her anymore."   
  
I watched her, not knowing what to say. "Did your mother go to Heaven?"  
  
She let go of my ear, slowly settling down and slumping back into her chair. "I think so," she said confidently. "But I still see her."  
  
I didn't know what she meant, or what she was talking about. "You still see her?"  
  
The little girl nodded, swinging her legs back and forth as the train moved along. "She sings me to sleep at night, cause I don't like the dark."  
  
I just stared at her, unable to speak a word.   
  
That night I thought about what that girl had said. I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering about everything. I thought about the priest and the time I had spent with him, and I thought about Croatia, and Abby... but I couldn't help connecting everything together. My whole life was lined up in a series of events, all of them landing each other hand in hand. I couldn't help but think about it...  
  
I don't plan on getting married again. Sometimes I think deep down that Abby knew I would never love her the way I loved my wife. I think she knew that I would never let go, that I would live the rest of my life with the memory of the way her hair smelled, the way she walked, the way she whispered when the children were still sleeping.  
  
So I don't need anyone else's love now. There is too much evidence to disprove any agnostic's religion of no God. There's too much proof to say Heaven is just something we say to make us feel better. My whole life is proof. And I don't need anyone else's love, because if the priest and that little girl are right, then I'll always have my wife's love. And I'll see her again someday.  



End file.
